That day, in front of everyone, Izabella set aside her pride and knelt in the pouring rain for a painful half hour, becoming the object of a cruel and absurd joke. She sobbed uncontrollably, her tears drenching Brett's clothes. The intensity of her hatred towards him was overwhelming, but what she despised even more was herself.

With Alan's tragic demise, forgiveness for Brett seemed impossible for Izabella, and self-forgiveness felt utterly out of reach. The weight of guilt and regret bore down on her, suffocating her spirit.

Brett seemed to feel her hatred. His hand trembled slightly, and there was only one thought in his mind: If Alan was really dead, how could Izabella willingly stay with him?

He couldn't let Izabella leave him, absolutely not!

The ringing of his cell phone brought Brett back to his senses. He held Izabella with one arm while pulling out his phone from his pocket with the other.

The call was from Liam. As soon as he answered, an anxious voice came from the other end.

"President Windham, Alan jumped off a building on his way to court and died on the spot. What should we do with the body?"

Brett felt a sudden tightness in his chest, and a brief panic flickered in his eyes. It was the first time he found himself caught in a dilemma, unsure of how to react to Liam's words. Worried that Izabella might overhear, he moved the phone away from them.

"President Windham, please give me an answer. Should we inform Ms. Salotti about Alan's death?" Urgently, the man on the other end pressed for a response.

"I'll be there soon. You handle it for now," Brett replied, taking a deep breath before ending the call.

Izabella had completely crumbled in Brett's embrace, appearing lifeless. Her eyes shut, and tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Brett reached out, gently wiping the tears from her face. As his fingers made contact with her eyes, Izabella opened them, revealing a deep sense of despair.

"I want to see him."

"Okay, I'll take you to him," Brett answered.

The blood on Izabella's hand smeared onto Brett's clothes, giving off a strong smell of blood. Brett was somewhat fastidious, and frowned when he saw it.

As he was considering what to do, the nurse finished her paperwork and came out.

Observing the situation, the nurse hurriedly approached with a mixture of guilt and concern etched on her face. "Ms. Salotti, are you alright? This is all my fault. You should have been resting in the ward." Izabella remained huddled in Brett's embrace, her face concealed from sight. However, her trembling body revealed the immense agony she was going through.

The nurse did not know what had happened, but judging by the man's grim face and the chaotic scene, she guessed that they must have had a quarrel.

The nurse couldn't help but feel a sense of fear around Brett. His mere presence exuded an intimidating aura, and his typically stern countenance alone was enough to make people feel breathless. Now, with his cold and menacing gaze, the fear intensified.

"Clean up the floor. I'll be taking her out for a while, and we'll return soon," Brett stated firmly.

"But Dr. Felton mentioned that Ms. Salotti requires an IV," the nurse countered.

"Tell him I'll bring Izabella back to the hospital within three hours. If he's not comfortable, he can call me, and I'll have someone pick up the medication from the hospital."

Having said this, the nurse had no choice but to stop blocking him. Feeling guilty, she quickly cleaned up the wheelchair and the IV tube and bag on the floor.

Brett placed Izabella back in the wheelchair and took a piece of gauze and some disinfectant from the nurse to treat her hand in a rudimentary way.

The wound on her hand where the needle had pierced was long and bloody, and it looked painful.

Izabella was afraid of pain, but this time she didn't even frown.

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